Round the bend
by towanda123
Summary: A goerdie soldier, sick of being disappointed with her life moved to the quickest place possible. Gotham city. A certain Joker takes a shine, seeing the broken but wonderful mind. If only her fingertips would let the cracks errupt. OC x Joker I DO NOT OWN ANY CHARACTERS SUCH AS JOKER/ BATMAN ETC. I claim only my OC.
1. Chapter 1

Well I was a mess.

I had just returned from my tour in Afghanistan. I'm English you see. Fighting in one of the worlds most successful armies was an honour, but in all honesty, define a successful army. Please. 400+ men dead and thousands more injured, in this war alone.

I seen some dreadful things; children in the process of being brainwashed, men twisted and bitter and fellow soldiers broken and blown apart at the side of roads. I have developed PTS - night terrors plagued my sleep. Visions of men, shattered by mixtures of fire and shrapnel - my friends and brothers, dead. But you know what, the friendships and adrenaline rushes were too good to pass up. I loved it, and hated it. Bittersweet.

I returned to find the man waiting at home, hadn't actually waited. He was engaged to another woman. She was prettier and smarter and better. My family was usual, battered by alcohol and football violence. Britain had never changed!

I had nothing to stay for - no exciting job prospects, no friends, no boyfriend. I needed to get away. As far away as possible. The night I went to my childhood room, went on the internet and searched for the cheapest place to live in an English speaking country. I had no special language skills - I had no special skills of any sort to be honest.

My education was a joke, I got my C's at GSCE and then looked to the Army. It was a quick fix to an everlasting problem, my family was always present and always shattered. A violent father, drunken mother and brothers heading the same way as my Dad. I learned quickly to take care of myself, athletic not out of choice but out of the need to survive.

So as a product of my disintegrated family, inability to pay attention in school and general dislike of British life I needed to run away. I came across and city named Gotham. It was wild, crime ridden and dangerous. But it was also somewhere away from Newcastle.

I left for the US three days later, no ceremonies or celebrations. I packed my clothes and left for a 1 bed fully furnished appartment in the Narrows, rent was £600 a month. With my army wages it was possible, plus I was able to switch to the US. Marines no questions asked.

Life was going to get better. It couldn't get worse.


	2. Chapter 2

After my flight, I touched the Gotham ground. The air was thick with smoke - like a city that was on fire, now dowsed and left behind. Abandoned. Seemed like me and Gotham had something in common.

I questioned its dirty streets, it was on the same level as the Bigg Market. Familiar scents of stale larger and cigarettes lingering in the atmosphere. I'd grown used to that over the past few years, obviously not in the past few months when I was deployed but before that. Phewwww, those stories of the goerdie girls lasting all night wearing next to nothing stood strong in my life. The alcohol was a great way to medicate, it helped me forget a lot. Plus, I gained so much confidence when I had a little dutch courage in my system. You see, I'm nothing special - I always needed a little help when talking to the lads. Well, there wasn't a lot of talking if you know what I mean. So I slept around - I made use of the fact I was a woman.

I strolled to my appartment, the quality of the city dropping as I inched closer to the Narrows. I hadn't the foggiest on where I was going, the street names were odd, the constant junctions forgein.  
"Excuse me mate!" I asked a seemingly average bloke, "You couldn't give a girl a hand could ya? I'm not from round 'ere, could you point me to the direction of 218 second I think that says?" He looked at me and grinned  
"Missy you ain't from Gotham and your asking a random guy the way to your appartment? Are you stupid -don't you realise how bad this city is? Look, take your dumbass and ruin someone elses day!" I was used to being patronised - I wasn't going to take it from some daft septic tank.  
"Hew you dirty septic. I divin't know who you think you are, or why on earth yi think yi can start kicking yi lips with me - but I think yi better stop before summin bad happens**" My voice was low and dark, we stood chest to chest. The man looked me up and down.  
"I'd rather get sent down for something important.. forget this"

I didn't realise my little outburst had gathered an audience; a stereo typical old woman and her scarf around her face, a young mother and small crying child and a few men on their way to work at their blue collar positions.

"Can any of you point me to 218 Second, in the Narrows?" I said, obviously still a little pumped up from my altercation  
"Yes darling" Croaked the elderly woman, "I live at 216 Second - you grab your bags and come along with me." I laughed at my luck -it wouldn't last. She spoke about her son and how he has dreams of England, I told her it wasn't that great.  
"Ahh well, the grass is always greener!" She chuckled, amused at her witty use of the saying. She asked about me, why I was here and how long I'd be staying.  
"I guess I just fancied a change you know - I don't know how long I'll be here. I was in the army in Newcastle..." She pulled a face, she was either impressed or digusted that I'd taken the post. You couldn't really tell because of her wrinkles. If I'm honest with you, she disgusted me a litte bit. Her hands were gnarled and broken, skin aged with brown spots and eyes glazed over - as if she was reminising in her past. Everthing I wanted to never be. It scared me a little.

We eventually reached a tall decrepid building of around 5 floors. She led me in, to the lifts  
"I'm on floor 4, you'll be on 5. Right at the end."  
I suffered through the awkward silence and thanked her, I was to call by if I needed anything. She was sweet but I didn't think I'd speak to her if I didn't need to.

My appartment was basic, beige walls and neutral furniture. The living room/ kitchen consited of a coffee table, small TV set, 3 seater sofa and large book case. Enough for me to live. I set my bags out regimently in the bedroom, emptied my clothes into the wardrobe. It was around 7. 30 pm and getting dark outside. I sat on the sofa and turned of the TV, watched a documentary on the US Education system and had a shower. I grew hungry so called a take away on the junk mail that had been left on the bookcase. I ate my chinese and watched some more TV. Then slept.

* * *

OKAY I realise it's really slow but I really wanted to fully develop my character - I haven't even named her yet guys!  
I understand that the Goerdie dialect is a little odd - please bear with me on this, if your British you'll know how proud us northeners are! Please review and tell me what you think about that!

TRANSLATION  
"Hew you dirty septic. I divin't know who you think you are, or why on earth yi think yi can start kicking yi lips with me - but I think yi better stop before summin bad happens"  
Oi you dirty yank. I don't know who you think you are, or why on earth you think you can shout at me - but I think you better stop before something bad happens  
(It's cockney rhyming slang - yank somehow translates to septic tank - it's crazy I know!)


	3. Chapter 3

I woke up and realised that my appartment was boring. I needed to get some colour on these walls and I needed to get settled.

I hooked up the laptop and found the nearest DIY store, the paint prices were decent so I sketched out a map got dressed and headed out into the Gotham air. I'd realised that its electrifying - full of fear but also hope. Like I said, electric. It was 8 in the morning when I got to the shop, it wasn't open until 9 so I had to walk around, I picked up a coffee and watched the Gothamites walk around.

I found quite a bit out: 1) No one smiled - ever. When you passed an old woman, she didn't smile and complain about the whether; she kept her head down to the ground. Scared. 2) It was grey, everywhere big grey towers protruded out of the streets intimadating the shells of people scuttling to work. 3) It was an average city, no one walked about with extraordinaryly fancy suits or flash cars. But there was a lot of homeless people, they walked around the streets being avoided by those lucky enough to be in shelter. It made me sad to watch so many men and women wandering like lost puppies.

"It's dull isn't it - this city never seems to get any better" A woman in her mid 30's stood above me, waiting to take the empty cup. She must have read my mind, "You finished sweetie?"

"Uhh, yeah thank you," She gave me a big grin, showing those pearly american whites

"Well bless my soul - you ain't from round here!" Her face dropped a little, "Honey, why are you here?"

"I suppose I needed to break out," she watched me intently, "Britain gets really small after a while."

She asked me where I was staying, she said it was a decent part of the Narrows. She was nice, her face was round and sort of perfectly american. Dyed blonde hair was scraped back into a low ponytail and bright blue eyes seemed worked with years of stress. I liked her though.

"My names Cheryl sweetie, it's been really nice meeting you. If your needing a tour round town come back here at 4."

"Cheryl it's been a pleasure, I think I'll take you up on the tour - I'm Katie by the way."

We parted and I headed to the DIY shop. It was huge - that was one thing I wasn't ever going to get used to. Everything in the states was HUGE. Portions, streets, crossings - you name it, it'll be ten times bigger over here! I searched through the paint section, deciding between duck egg blue and green apple. I was slowly building a pros and cons list in my head until I was interrupted.

"You know uhhh they aren't t-that diff-er-ent-"

"Yes they are - it's blue and green you dafty." I couldn't be bothered dealing with some silly American kid and his stutter.

"I'm just saying darling, but if ehhh I were you... the green is nicer." I hated to admit it but I was agreeing with him. Some nice plants and wood furniture - the flat was going to be decent soon.

"Yeah, your right." I sighed and pulled two tins out of the shelf, they weren't too taxing for my body which was trained by the Armed Forces but no one wants to lug tins of paint around the city. "Thanks." I didn't even look at the guy who had spoken to me.

"Hey, wait." He said, very gently and with a chuckle in his voice. It did creep me out a litte, back home we were friendly but we didn't try and pick people up in B&Q. I turned to face him and found something I did not expect.

He was wearing a well tailored suit, it was a little motheaten and scabby but still well made. The fabric was a washed out deep purple but you could tell it was once bright and migrane inducing. I could see a bright green waistcoat sitting comfortably over his chest and a purple/ brown with an ugly green tye, spotted with shapes the same colour as the paint I was holding. If his attire wasn't enough to shock someone, his face was. A head of luminous green hair flowered a bright white face, only broken by dark circles around his eyes and a bright red smile following what looked like scars across his face. I hadn't realised that we had been standing looking at eachother in silence. I didn't want to aggrevate the obviously crazy man infront of m, so decided to play the chummy soldier card.

"I like the purple and green - decent combination," I began, his face perked a little and he angled his head as if to get a better look at the dozy English girl standing infront of him. "The flower on your errr, uhhhhm." I clicked and pointed at the side of his jacket - the long bits on the collar.

"Lapel?..." He asked, eyebrows cocked and a slight grin on his face.

"Aye, yeah - errm well it's been fun a suppose. Nice meeting you" I smiled and turned on my heel, attempting to walk out of the shop.

"Urrhm excuse me? We uhh, we didn't meet. You happen to like my clothes - I'm very flattered sweetie" He pushed a fake smile on his face, flashing jaggeded teeth, "I don't actually know your name. And strangely enough, you uhh, don't. Know. Me." He spoke so sinisterly that I felt my legs sort of fizzle at the back of my knees. "That surprises me though - you know, everyone in Gotham knows my face. Every single little critter but you. I don't like that one teency weency bit."

"Well love, why don't you just tell me who you are then?" I asked, suddenly regreting my usual cheeky attitude. I wasn't dealing with a normal man, I was dealing with someone who was deranged. He chuckeled at me and slowly began to saunter towards me. Laughs growing with every step. I saw the way his purple leather hands wiggeled in anticipation, his neck strained in his laughter, calves and thighs lifting his ecstacy. He was muttering along the lines of 'watch it burn', 'ahhh silly little girls, 'I will break'.

"I errr, I am the end to Gotham. I am the anarchist. I am the one who'll watch it all fall to the ground. I'm the Joker sweetie."

* * *

So... here's the Joker! I wanted to leave a total 'what's happening?' feeling. Not sure if it's great enough for that yet.

Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

I know it was supposed to be really dramatic and really awe inspiring, but I've still only been in the city for about 18 hours.

"Mate, you gonna hafta elaborate on that one - I'm ehh, I'm not from round here you see."

"I can tell honey - that's a funny accent ya got on ya" He waited to see my expression, to see if he'd offended at all. He stood fingering the paint tins, eyes distant but his voice was firm and dominating. "Well, I'm just gonna have to teach you ain't I?" The rhetorical question was followed by a clearing of the throat. He odly sat down on the floor. He looked up at me as if to invite me to the grubby, dusty shop floor; I shook my head and he pulled a knife. It was grubby and obviously used often. I sighed deeply and pulled an unimpressed face whilst I sat down. "I uhh always loved storytime! Where shall we begin... ahhh! How about the evolution of the Jokerrr?" He spoke softly, in the echoy and empty shop. It was harrowing to say the least.

"You see this knife here... this is the one that carved my pretty little scars," As he said this, his tongue jutted out and likef the sides crudely. Now that I noticed, he was always biting at them inside his mouth, "My mommy dearest did this. She and Daddy didn't want a little Joker. Not one bit. He left her when she was uehh pregnant - she said my face was just as urrr..." He waved his hands about and then pulled the inverted commas from his mind, "perfect as Daddy's, and she couldn't have that. No, no, no. Mommy had to break that 'perfect' face." He stopped dead in his tracks

"So you were given a chealsea grin?" I asked, quite rudely if I'm honest. He pulled his shoulders up and scrunched his nose right up. I gave a little lopsided smile and snorted, "Sounds familiar."

He sprung from the floor, shocking me a little. "Ohh so we have a little connection. Nasty nasty parents... well ehh isn't that just so interestinggg...", I stood up to face him.

"You still didn't say why you are important though Mr. Uhmmm.. Mr. Joker"

"Ohh, you are determined - I gave you a ahhh taste yeah? And little English Emma wants some more?" He danced around me but I refused to be intimidated by him.

"My name is Katie," He looked at me and cocked an eyebrow. He began "Let's just get to the point for Katie Kat then..." I scowled at the common nickname, like chalk scraping down a chalkboard it grinded my nose right down. "I see the bad in people always. No one is good. No one. Inside everyone is a Joker - it's just that I was... let's say fixed? enough to let it out. I'm what everyone wants to be - you see everytime Daddy praised his little girl with his fists, and ever ytime you wanted Daddy dead. Uhh uhh uhh," He shook his index finger right in my face, "- don't dare deny it doll face. Everytime you wanted your Dad dead, that was your Joker coming out. I'm going to end everyone's petty lives. I'm going to watch their masks burn, until everyone is a Joker."

I stood a little shocked. He was sort of beautiful to watch, like the Gotham air yeah? Electrifying. But electricity shocks and kills. I wanted to be near him. WAIT. No I didn't, the danger and the adrenaline was for Afghanistan. Not a few days by a schizo who'll give me a Chealsea grin. No thank you.

"Well, Mr. Joker - we've met and I've got some painting to do. I'm going to go now... It's eeh been a pleasure. I'm away, bye!" I said with a grin. He started laughing, I tried to ignore it but the chuckles were infectious. I begin the smile, "What's so funny?"

"Ohh nothing.. just the fact that you uhhh, you think your leaving. I could have killed you. So many times - so many oppurtunities to feel your blood run out. But I've kept you. You. Are. Mine."


End file.
